


Blessed Be

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Christmas, Drama, F/M, Gen, Romance, Series: The Adventures of Armando Langostini
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-12-19
Updated: 1999-12-19
Packaged: 2018-11-11 01:35:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11138592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Armando & Cass celebrate the Holidays with her parents who are full of surprises.This story is a sequel toOh Tannenbaum.





	Blessed Be

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Blessed Be

## Blessed Be

by Kali Sandison

Author's disclaimer: Standard.

Author's notes: Constructive criticism always welcome. Oh, hell just e-mail me and tell your opinion.

* * *

Disclaimer: Armando Langostini, Benton Fraser and Nero are property of Alliance. Casey Sinclair is used with the gracious permission of Sher Haas. All other characters are mine. No infringement of any copyrights is intended. This story is written for the private enjoyment of Due South fans and not for monetary profit. Permission to use this story for profit is not given. 

Rated R for adult language and sexual situations. 

Blessed Be 

"Hell of a time to be hanging around an airport," Armando thought. It was 11:00pm on December 22nd. He supposed he shouldn't really complain. He had volunteered to pick up Cass' parents at the airport so she could attend her Solstice Celebration. And it certainly wasn't their fault that weather had delayed their flight out of O'Hare. He saw a plane rolling towards the terminal and hoped that this was the right flight. 

An hour earlier, he'd called Cass to update her on the situation. She had just left the celebration, was on her way home and offered to detour to the airport. But he'd told her to go on home and wait for them there. Now he stood and watched for the couple from Indiana. He stared at the photograph Cass had given him but Gino, his chauffeur, had a sign with their names stenciled on it just in case they slipped by him. 

He caught sight of a familiar feature exiting the jet way. A large man in a suede jacket and a cowboy hat walked arm in arm with a petite red headed woman. He glanced at the photo again. Yes, it had to be them. The woman noticed Gino before Armando could get to them through the crowd. He saw the three of them talking and Gino pointed in the direction of his boss. Armando finally made his way through the mass of bodies crowding the gate and extended his right hand to the big man. 

"Mr. Lindsey. My name is Armando Langostini, I'm a friend of your daughter." 

"Please, call me Carl. This is my wife, Catherine." 

Armando shook her hand as well. "It's a pleasure to meet you both." 

The woman looked worried. "Where's Cassandra? I thought she'd be here." 

"She had a schedule conflict and I offered to pick you up. Of course, that was when we thought you'd be arriving a few hours ago." He chuckled. 

Carl chuckled too. "Well, you know what they say. If you don't like the weather in the Midwest, stick around a half hour and it'll change." 

"So they say. Well, Cass is waiting for you at the farm. So Gino will go get the car and we'll go get your bags." 

The chauffeur nodded and walked off while the others left the gate to head for the baggage claim. 

"It was very nice of you to collect us, Mr. Langostini," Catherine said. 

"Well, Cass has been a good friend and she was truly upset when she realized that she had two things going at once." 

"A good friend, you say?" 

He wondered if she were hard of hearing or just trying to get information from him. He chose a neutral answer. "Yes, a good friend. You see, I've only recently moved to Las Vegas so I was still learning my way around when I met her. She's been a big help in getting me acclimated." 

"And how did you two meet?" 

"Catherine," chided her husband, "you don't need to start interrogating him. I'm sure it was just an oversight that Cassandra has never mentioned him in her e-mails." He winked broadly at Armando. 

"Okay," he thought. "I can see how this is gonna go. Either I tell them or they grill their daughter. Well, she doesn't need that headache." 

"Oh, it's no big secret. Cass and I met at the Masquerade Ball for the AIDS Resource Center. We found out that we have a lot in common, like basketball and neither of us being natives to this state. And we've been friends ever since." 

"Basketball, eh? Have you played her yet?" 

"Yeah, she wiped the floor with me." 

Both her parents laughed. "She had basketball scholarship offers from all over, even Purdue, U Conn and Tennessee. But she was bound and determined to go to Chicago and study art. I don't understand it but it seems to make her happy." Carl sighed. 

"Well, from what I've seen, she is very talented and a gifted teacher," was Armando's diplomatic reply. 

At that moment luggage began appearing on the carousel. Cass' parents each grabbed a suitcase and then turned to Armando. He glanced over his shoulder and saw his limousine pulling up under the canopy. 

"Well, our ride is here." 

They walked out to the car where Gino had already opened the trunk. He placed their luggage in with great care before opening the door for his passengers. The Lindseys entered first followed by Armando. 

"Directly to the farm?" Gino inquired of his boss. 

"That's right," Armando replied. And the door was shut firmly behind him. 

Once they had pulled away from the airport, Armando picked up his cell phone and dial Cass' number. It rang four times before she answered in a breathless voice. 

"Hey, Cass. Did I catch you in the middle of something?" 

"No," she lied, "I was just in the bathroom." She had really been outside checking on her barking dogs. But she didn't feel the need to worry him with that. 

"Well, I've got someone here who'd probably like to talk to you. Hang on." 

He handed the phone to Catherine. She looked startled but took it from him gingerly. 

"Cassandra?" she inquired. 

"Mom. Where are you?" 

"We're in your friend's car and we just left the airport." 

"Great, I'll see you soon." 

"Okay, dear. Hang on and I'll put your friend back on the phone." She handed the phone back to Armando who looked at Carl. Cass' father shook his head with a big grin. 

"Yeah Cass, they're safe and sound. Traffic doesn't seem to be too bad so we should make good time." 

"Thanks Armando. I appreciate the heads up." 

"See you soon, Cass." 

"Good-bye." 

Cass hung up the phone and took a deep breath. She was not looking forward to this visit with her parents. In the nearly two years that she'd lived here, she'd only seen her folks twice and those were both short visits. She didn't worry too much about seeing her dad. As the only girl in the family, he had treated her more like a son than a daughter. She knew they'd be fine. It was her mother that had her worried. She had never been close with her mom. And lately Catherine's e-mails sounded like she wanted to change that. Cass shook her head. She just wasn't sure that was possible after all these years. 

She looked at the clock on the kitchen wall. It would be midnight before her parents arrived. She knew that Armando wouldn't stay since he'd taken the limo to collect them. But fortunately, it would be late enough that she wouldn't have to play hostess for long. She could just make sure they were acclimated to the farm and then claim that sleepiness was overtaking her. Morning would be time enough to start pretending to be a family again. 

She put several Christmas CD's in the stereo and let the music soothe her while she drank a cup of herbal tea. This was one of her favorite blends, nearly guaranteed to relax her. Her thoughts drifted back to the Solstice Celebration she'd attended just a few hours earlier. They'd originally planned to meet at the high priestess' home but at the last minute, they'd found a suitable outdoor location with a live tree ready to decorate. Decorating the tree had always been one of Cass' favorite activities and this year it seemed even more significant as she hung an ornament made of Almak's fur in memory of her brother Christopher. Last year, she had been overwhelmed with the sadness of not sharing Christmas with him. But this year, she had a new perspective on life and death. In fact, it had been Christopher's death that had brought her to study the craft. This year they'd ended the celebration with an adaptation of a hymn that she learned as a child. 

Blessed be the tie that binds  
Our hearts in perfect love.  
The fellowship of kindred minds  
Is like to that above. 

She sat now in her favorite chair and looked at her own Christmas tree. It was a large one to accommodate all the ornaments she had collected over the years. And she had put many strings of lights on it. She looked at all the packages under the tree knowing she still had one more to finish. But that could be accomplished tomorrow. Armando's sweater had only to be blocked before she could wrap it and place it under the tree. 

She thought about the upcoming week and the plans she had made. Tomorrow she would show her parents some of the sights of the area. Otis would come over and take care of the animals. Christmas Eve was Wednesday, the day Armando normally spent with her. She knew her parents would insist on attending Midnight Mass and since she wasn't attending a Catholic Church, she let Armando handle those arrangements. She wondered if she should have invited him to spend the night or not. It wasn't a far drive back to his home. But she didn't know if he should be there in the morning. 

She knew her family's tradition well and she had tried to make her plans accordingly. Midnight mass followed by bed. Presents would be exchanged in the morning. Back in Indiana, they would have spent the afternoon visiting relatives. But here, Cass had started her own tradition. She knew that many of her friends had no family in the immediate vicinity either so she'd invited them to join her for Christmas. It would be a very full and jolly house in the afternoon. Perhaps it was best that Armando join them then. As far as her parents knew, he was just another friend. 

Her ruminations were interrupted by the sound of a car in the driveway. She heard the dogs barking at the arrival. "Well, here we go," she thought. She walked to the front door and stepped out onto the porch. Gino had just stepped out. She watched as he opened the passenger door and her parents, followed by Armando, exited. "Cassandra!" cried her mother running towards the porch to envelop her in a hug. 

"Hi mom. It's good to see you." 

Her fathered followed quickly behind, grabbing her and lifting her off the ground in a rib-crushing embrace. "How's my girl?" he asked. 

"Fine, dad," she replied when her feet hit the ground again. She saw Gino getting the luggage out of the trunk of the car. 

"In the guest room, Cass?" Armando inquired looking at the suitcases. 

"Yes, please," she answered and watched as he instructed his driver where the suitcases should be delivered. 

"Now dear," Catherine began, "your friend tells us that we'll all be attending Mass together Wednesday. But he won't be joining us Thursday morning. What's that all about?" 

Cass sent a pleading look to Armando but he just smiled back. "Well, I thought you'd like to keep to the family tradition as much as possible. So I reserved Christmas morning just for us. Armando knows he's welcome to come over for the party in the afternoon if he likes." 

"Nonsense," she declared and then turned to Armando. "Please forgive my daughter's appalling lack of manners and join us Christmas morning. How far away do you live dear?" 

He could see that Cass was still silently pleading with him. But he had really enjoyed her parents so far. They were nothing like he'd imagined from her description so he wanted to spend more time with them. And he was secretly amused to see her so uncomfortable. Maybe this would be his opening. 

"Oh, I'm about thirty minutes away, as the crow flies." 

"Well, that's too far to drive so late at night. You'll just have to stay here. I'm sure Cassandra can find a place for you. Can't you dear?" She looked at her daughter. 

"I'll arrange something, Mom. Why don't you and dad go on inside and I'll say goodnight to Armando." 

Just as she had uttered the words, Gino returned and walked to the waiting limousine. She took Armando's arm and followed the chauffeur. 

"You are so dead," she threatened quietly. 

"What'd I do?" 

"As if you don't know." 

"Look Cass, your mom's already got the notion that we're a little more than friends." 

"A notion that you did nothing to deny..." 

"Or confirm. I swear to you, on my father's grave, that I was the soul of discretion. Give her a chance, Cass. You might find that she's on your side." 

"Or yours." 

"Hey, if you don't want me here, all you have to do is say the word. You know that." 

She took a breath and started to reply when she realized she was about to whine. It was a tone she didn't like in others and particularly abhorred in herself. But it made her laugh briefly. 

"Yes, I'd like to have you here. I'm just afraid that with my parents around it will be awkward." 

"Only as awkward as you make it." He hugged tightly. "Good night Cass. I'll call you Wednesday before I come over. But if you need me before then, you know how to reach me." 

"Good night, Armando. Thanks again for picking up my parents." 

"That's what friends are for." 

He released Cass from his embrace and got into his car. Gino shut the door behind him. 

"And thank you, Gino, for delivering them safely," she called as he walked to the driver's door. 

He tipped his cap to her in response, got in the car and drove off. 

She turned to see if her parents had been watching her but fortunately the door was closed and there were no figures in the window. She took a deep breath and headed inside. The only signs of life were emanating from the guestroom so she supposed her parents had begun to unpack and settle in for their visit. She went to there to make sure they were okay before she headed to bed. 

"You folks need anything before I fall asleep?" she inquired. 

"No dear, I think we're fine. Carl?" 

"No. It looks like Cassandra has everything ready for us." 

"Okay then, goodnight." 

"Goodnight, dear," they called in unison. 

Cass was truly exhausted when her head hit the pillow. She didn't think she had taken more than three deep breaths before she was asleep. Sleep came quickly, but then came the dreams. Dreams of being strapped to some medieval torture device while Catherine questioned her ceaselessly about her love life and her relationship with Armando. She refused to answer her mothers questions but the torture got worse and worse until she finally acquiesced to the demands for information. 

Just then the CD player by her bed began playing, waking Cass from her nightmare. Some time during the night she'd flung her arms over her head and her hands had caught under the headboard. She had no idea how long she'd slept like that but when she tried to move her arms, they were virtually paralyzed. With great determination and a lot of pain she managed to get her arms back down to her sides and turn off the music. She listened closely and heard that her parents were already up. Cass was not surprised; they'd always been early risers. 

She began to throw on her work clothes and take care of the animals when she remembered that Otis would be over in half an hour to do that. She decided to take a quick shower so she could be ready for him when he arrived. She had just finished dressing when she heard the dogs barking a welcome to him. She ran out the door with a quick 'good morning' to her parents. 

"Hi, Otis." She greeted him as he got out of his truck. 

"Cass, what are you doing out here? You're supposed to be visiting with your folks." 

"Yeah, I know. I just..." 

"Just what? Wanted to get out of the house before they drove you nuts? Wanted to come out and check on me?" 

"More the first than the second. I wouldn't have asked you to help out if I didn't think you were competent. But it's hard to give up control." 

He took her by the shoulders and gently turned her back toward her house. "You go inside and visit. I'll take care of things out here." 

She walked slowly back towards the house. She knew her parents would have already eaten breakfast by now so they'd be sure to comment on her choices. She took a deep breath and resolved not to respond to their baiting. 

When she entered the kitchen, they were still sitting in the breakfast nook drinking coffee. She kissed each of them, filled the kettle with water for her tea and put it on the burner. She fixed a bowl granola, dumped a cup of strawberry yogurt on it and for good measure grabbed a banana as well. She sat down at the table with her breakfast just as the kettle started to whistle. Grabbing her favorite mug from the dish drainer, she moved the kettle to a cold burner, then hunted through her cabinets for her box of green tea, and dropped a bag in the mug with two spoons of sugar. She poured the steaming water over the tea and brought her mug back to the table. 

She started eating her cereal and was three bites into it before she realized they hadn't said one word to her. Was she going to have to start this conversation? 

"How'd you sleep? Problems getting used to the strange bed?" she inquired. 

Her father laughed and small patches of color graced his cheeks. "No, we were quite comfortable." 

She looked at them both. Her mother was blushing too. Had they? In her house? No, she refused to even think about it. "That's good. Well, Otis is taking care of the animals so we pretty much have the day to do as we please. I do have one small project to take care of in the studio but it shouldn't take long. I thought I might take you out and see the sights today." 

"That would be fine dear," her mother replied. "Would you mind if I went out and saw the dogs?" 

"No, mom. Feel free. I'm sure they'd be happy for the change in company." 

"Well, then excuse me." Catherine stood and left the house. 

"Okay, dad. What's up?" Cass asked with her usual forthrightness. 

"What do you mean, honey?" He looked honestly perplexed. 

"I sit down with a bowl of yogurt and granola, a banana and a cup of green tea and you two didn't say a thing. I tell you what I had planned for the day and there's not a word of dissent from either of you? Now mom wants to go see the dogs? Who are you and what have you done with my real parents?" 

Carl chuckled easily. "We are your real parents Cassandra. Though I did tell your mother I wanted to speak to you privately. She wants to do the same thing." 

Cass rolled her eyes. "Thanks for the warning." 

"Look, honey, I know things have been kind of strained between us since your brother died. I take full responsibility for my part in that rift. I said some things that were hurtful and you had every right to be upset. I want to apologize." 

"Apology accepted." 

"Now, is there something you want to tell me?" 

The question caught Cass totally off guard. Yes, there were thing she wanted to discuss with him but she had no idea what he was leading up to. She cleared her throat nervously. 

"Well, yeah, as a matter of fact there is. I was hoping we could find some time to go to the shooting range while you were here." 

Now it was Carl's turn to be surprised. "Why honey? I didn't even know you still owned a gun." 

"Then he didn't tell you?" 

"Who didn't tell me what?" 

"Armando, about the vandals." 

Her father shook his head. 

"A couple of weeks ago, some people came out during the night and vandalized the barn. Fortunately, all damage was limited to the exterior of the building but it frightened me. Now, I'm probably just being paranoid, but I'd feel a lot better if we could go down to the range and pump some targets full of holes." 

"Honey, is there more to this than you're telling me? It's not like you to be paranoid." 

"No, not really." 

"Okay, you know I'll be here for you when you need me." 

"Thanks dad." She kissed his cheek. "Now, what subject were you fishing for when we started this conversation?" 

"Well, I was wondering about you and this young man who brought us here last night." 

"And precisely what were you wondering?" 

"Everything. The better part of the ride home last night was spent talking about you. All we know is his name, that he's not a native and that you're better at basketball than he is." 

"Well, you've got the pertinent information. He's in real estate and quite successful, as you've probably already guessed. Though I can tell he's not quite comfortable with his wealth. He reminds me a lot of someone I knew in Chicago so I guess that's why I'm so comfortable with him. We met at the masquerade ball and have been friends ever since." 

"And?" 

"And what?" 

"Cassandra, there's no easy way to say this. But last night I found a pair of men's briefs under the bed. They're too new to be a dust rag so something tells me they're not Christopher's leftovers." 

Cass' face flushed several shades of red. She buried her face in her hands and shook her head. 

"Honey, are you two having sex?" 

She couldn't take it any more and burst into tears. 

Carl was flustered. He had expected many reactions to his question from evasion to flat out defiance. Tears, he didn't understand. 

"Okay, maybe I should have left this line of questioning to your mother." 

"No dad. This won't be any easier with her." Cass sipped her tea, took a deep breath and started in. "Yes, we had sex, once. No, we haven't done it since. Yes, he has spent the past several Wednesday nights here, in the guestroom, alone. We usually spend Wednesdays together here and go out on Saturday nights. I've spent one night at his place, which was the night we did it. Anything else?" 

"You did it once and then quit? Why? Wasn't it any good?" 

"Honestly? It was terrific. The earth moved. Fireworks were launched. If I'd really believed it could be that good, I would have done it years ago," she said knowing full well why it had been her first time. 

"You mean..." 

"It was my first time." 

"Okay, so, not that it's any of my business but why'd you stop?" 

"Well, quite frankly, it's mostly because I'm scared." 

"Of what?" 

"Dad, I don't know what came over me that night. It's like I was a completely different person. I'm sure part of it had to do with the fact that I figured I'd never see this guy again so it didn't really matter how inexperienced I was. But now, he's still around and I don't know what to do." 

"Honey, you've done it once. I think you know." 

"I don't mean that, dad." 

"I take it your young man doesn't know any of this." 

"Nope. I know he wants to do it again and he's been really sweet about my constant refusal but... Oh hell, I don't know why I even care." 

"Because you love him." 

Cass shot him a look of doubt. 

"Cassandra, do you think I can't tell? Granted, you haven't known him that long, and you may not have admitted it to yourself yet but it's apparent that you do. And it's equally apparent that he loves you too." 

"I know." 

"You do?" 

"Yeah, he told me three weeks ago. And no he didn't say that just to get me back in bed with him. I think he really means it. Or at least, he thinks he does." 

"You want my advice?" 

"If I say 'no', will you tell me anyway?" 

"Nope, I'll keep my mouth shut." 

"And then you'll make mom have this conversation with me?" 

"You know me too well." 

"Yeah, I do. So what's your advice?" 

"Talk to him. Tell him the truth, the whole truth. Tell him your fears. And if you're ready to, tell him you love him. I think he can handle it." 

"Thanks dad." She hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek. 

"Honey, if you ever have kids, you'll learn that a parent's number one wish for their children is that they be happy. That was my problem with Christopher. I just couldn't see how he could be happy. I realize now that what makes me happy is not the same thing that makes anyone else happy. I want you to be happy, too. And if living in the desert, with your animals, spinning, knitting, weaving and whatever else it is that you do, makes you happy, then my wish has been fulfilled." 

"I am happy, dad. I really am. I've made a home here. I have friends, some of whom you'll meet tomorrow. I know it's not Indiana. But it's a good life." 

"That's all you can ask for." Neither one of them had noticed Catherine enter the room. "So, Cassandra, let's go down to the studio and you can show me this project you're working on." 

"I'll take care of the dishes," he father volunteered. 

Cass flipped the light switch at the top of the stairs and preceded her mother down to her studio. The looms, the frames and the spinning wheel all showed evidence of works in progress or recently completed. Cass turned on the power to her steamer table and gathered Armando's sweater from the basket on the floor. 

"Cassandra, that's beautiful. Did you spin that yourself?" 

"No, it's store bought. Some yarn I found in Canada during the last spinners and weavers convention. You know me. I find yarn I like, I buy it, and then find a use for it later. I guess I'm a 'yarnaholic' or something." 

"Yes, I think you are. So, did you and your father have a nice talk?" 

"Yes and you can get all the gory details from him." 

"Oh dear, you must feel like we've brought the Spanish Inquisition on you." 

"Well the thought had occurred to me." 

"We're not here to pry, dear. But as your father said, we just want you to be happy. And if Armando makes you happy, that's wonderful." 

"Mom, no one person, or activity, or thing makes me happy. I make myself happy. And I do that by bringing people and activities and things into my life. But yes, having Armando for a friend has generally increased my happiness level. Of course, it's also increased my frustration level. But I suppose that's just part of human interaction. 

"So," Cass said changing the subject, "You like the sweater?" She arranged it carefully on the table and began to lightly steam it into shape. 

"Yes, the color is wonderful. Is that what you call an Aran style?" 

"Well, it's sort of a simple Aran. The yarn was so pretty I didn't want to do too much embellishment but I think the cables and diamonds really look nice. Of course, out here we don't have much call for wool sweaters, but Armando does travel a great deal so I thought it would be something he could take with him when he heads to colder climates. I just hope it fits properly. I got his measurements from his butler so it should be okay. But at this moment, it doesn't look quite right. I'm hoping that the blocking will get it back into shape." 

"Oh, I'm sure it will." 

Cass continued to work on the sweater while her mother looked at the other projects that she had going. On the small loom was an arrangement in royal blue and white. From the size, Catherine guessed it would be a place mat. The big loom and the fine-gauge knitting frame sat empty. The mid-gauge frame had a sweater on it. The double length bulky frame appeared to have an afghan hanging from its needles. The Saxony spinning wheel showed a full bobbin of yarn yet to be wound in a ball for storage. 

"Lord, child, how do you keep it all straight?" was her Catherine's astonished question. 

"Computers, mom. They do more than send e-mail. I have all sorts of software that helps me do business. My project manager program really is first rate." 

"Yes, but how do you get everything done?" 

"That's the advantage to being self employed. I can work anytime I want to. And I can refuse projects if I wish. But, as you saw this morning, I have some help. Otis has been fantastic. He's been over every morning and practically every evening to take care of the animals. That's allowed me more time to spend down here getting Christmas presents made." 

"And Armando?" 

"In case you hadn't noticed, he's really not the livestock type. But he did convince me that I needed help. And if you want any more information on him, you'll just have to ask dad." 

"Dear, how many times do I have to tell you that I'm not here to pry?" 

"I know you're not mom. But I can tell there are things you want to know. And your husband has most of the information. Why don't you two go get ready to do some sight seeing while I finish up down here? He can fill you in on our conversation this morning." 

"As you wish, dear." 

Cass hugged her mother briefly before she returned to the green sweater. Catherine walked up the stairs slowly thinking about her daughter's life. It wasn't the life she would have chosen for either herself or her daughter but Cassandra seemed to be content. 

The rest of the day passed without incident. Cass took her family to many of the scenic sights around the Las Vegas area and made sure to take them to the Kidd Marshmallow factory. She recalled being very young and going to the factory that was in Ligonier, Indiana. She knew her parents would get a kick out of seeing the new facility. She also wanted to stop and Ethel M's candy factory and pick up some sweets for Thursday's Christmas gathering. 

For dinner that night, they went back to Colucci's, the Italian restaurant that Armando had taken her to a few weeks ago. She remembered with distaste the unpleasant man who had rudely interrupted their dinner. She hoped he would not be here again. Fortunately the odious man was absent and they were able to enjoy their dinner in peace. As before, the food was excellent and the service was so good that even Carl had to comment. 

When they arrived back at the farm that night, Cass excused herself to make a quick check on the dogs. She hadn't really spent any time with them that day and she hated keeping them in the kennel. They barked and whined a greeting to her as she walked in the door. She saw that their water bowls were full and they appeared to be fine. But in a wave of soft heartedness she let them loose so they could follow her back to the house. Ray and Benny were overjoyed at their freedom and ran circles around Cass trying to herd her. Almak was more restrained but quickly followed when he realized where they were going. When they got in the house, she had to make sure they didn't topple the Christmas tree with their antics. Almak was especially interested in the tree. Being a much taller dog he detected the familiar scents in the ornaments. 

Cass ruffled his fur. Yeah, boy, that's you. She was pointing to snowflake ornaments she had tatted out of small bits of leftover dog fur. Some were his alone, some were his parents' fur and some were mixed. She had even made ornaments for Benny and Ray out of their fur. He barked his compliments. 

"Thank you. I think they're pretty nice too." 

"It's a beautiful tree, dear. You should be proud," was Catherine's comment. 

"Thanks mom. But take some of the credit for yourself. You gave me a lot of these ornaments." 

"Yes, I wanted to make sure my children had ornaments when they left home. I see you kept Christopher's as well." 

"I had to. It was one of the few ways to keep him as part of my home." 

"Cassandra, I know this is a selfish request. But would you let me take some of his ornaments home with me? I'd like his memories to be back in our home too." 

Cass hugged her mom warmly. "Of course. But I'd like them to stay up until I take the tree down on New Years Day. Let me know which ones you want and I'll pack them up and ship them to you after the first of the year." 

"Promise?" 

"On my brother's grave." 

Cass felt the need for a cup of chamomile and valerian tea before bed. She inquired if her parents wanted anything but they both declined. She made her tea and then returned to the living room. She was just about to turn on the stereo when her father interrupted her. 

"Cassandra, why don't you play the piano for us? I don't remember the last time I heard you play." 

Cass willingly sat down on the bench and placed her hands on the keys. She thought for a moment and then began to play a Chopin prelude that Christopher had always favored. She wasn't a big fan of Chopin or any other romantic era composer. She much preferred the classical period; Beethoven, Mozart and their contemporaries were her favorites. So it was their music she played after she honored her brother's spirit. But soon she was yawning too much to play well and she had to excuse herself to go to bed. 

She drifted off to sleep reviewing the day's events and thinking of what tomorrow would bring. She knew she had surprised her father with her request to go to the gun range. She wished she could tell him the whole story but was afraid of compromising Armando. No, better that secret stayed buried and her father think she was just afraid of vandals. She planned to call the range in the morning and try to reserve a time for Friday and Saturday. Once again she felt blessed to have hired Otis to help her with the animals. Now she would have time to make regular visits to the range. Smiling to herself, she fell asleep and didn't awaken until her alarm went off the next morning. 

Armando, however, was not having such a good night. The day had begun with a meeting with some highly placed members of the Iguana family. They'd heard about the incident at Colucci's and the vandalism at Cass' farm. They weren't happy that a routine business deal gone bad was having such far-reaching and unrelated effects. Armando felt like he was the one being persecuted and so had no words of defense. He simply vowed to make sure things didn't escalate. Leaving there he went about his routine business, working deals for the purchase and development of land in Nevada. Fortunately, what with the holidays being upon them, very few people wanted to do business so Armando spent a good deal of time working on his "plan" to tie up loose ends back in Chicago. The few parts he'd executed so far had given him great peace of mind. He hated to admit it but Cass had been right about visualization. He did feel like he had really accomplished those tasks. 

But now he was in his bed, staring at the ceiling wondering about Cass and about Frankie Gianelli. He wasn't worried about her while her parents were visiting. He'd gotten the impression that her father was capable of handling anything. He hadn't mentioned the vandals on the drive to the farm last night and hoped that Cass had at least dropped a word of the incident in her father's ear. No, Frankie was the big worry. He wasn't sure how he was going to take care of that. The family had made it crystal clear that they wanted no part of any business deal Gianelli was offering. And it seemed the only way Frankie was going to be appeased was to do a deal. He knew he'd have to meet with the man and settle this once and for all. He put it in the back of his mind to call Frankie after the New Year's festivities were finished. 

It was well after midnight when he finally fell into a troubled sleep. His mind was still spinning with scenarios of doom that could befall Cass because of his connections. And those plots were made apparent in his nightmares. Twice, during the night, he awoke from dreams that had dire conclusions for Cass. 

When he finally got out of bed Christmas Eve morning, his hazel eyes were heavily shadowed. Nero and Mrs. Petropolis, his cook, both commented on it at breakfast. He shot them both a look that held no Christmas cheer. Having eaten, he went to his study and logged on to his e-mail account. Only one message, from the justice department, in code so it looked innocuous enough. But somehow, even they had heard about Frankie and Cass. "Merry Christmas to me," was Armando's glum thought. He had originally planned to be at the farm at noon just like always. But now he wondered if that was such a good idea. He thought about staying home until it was time to pick up the Lindseys for midnight mass. He picked up the phone to call Cass and tell her about his change in plans. 

The phone at the farm rang twice before Carl answered it. 

"Hello? Lindsey home." 

"Carl?" Armando asked, surprised to hear the man's voice on the phone. 

"Yes, what can I do for you?" 

"Is Cass available?" 

"Yeah, she's sitting right here. Hold on." 

He handed the phone to his daughter. 

"Hello?" 

"Cass, it's Armando." 

"Hi, when are you coming over? Dad's skunking us in a game of Trivial Pursuit. Wanna come early and even the odds a little bit?" 

Armando rubbed his hand across his close cropped scalp. "Well, that's kind of why I was calling. I was thinking of staying home this afternoon and then just coming over tonight before mass." 

"And why were you thinking this?" 

Cass' voice was completely neutral. He couldn't tell how she felt about this change in plans. He thought about lying to her but decided that there were already too many falsehoods between them. 

"Cass, I'm just not feeling very merry right now and I don't think it would be right to insert my bad mood on your family and your celebration." 

She thought she had a good idea of what had put him in such a foul mood but didn't want to say anything in front of her parents. She decided to attack instead. "Armando Langostini, don't you even think about it. You will come over and you'll do it as fast as you can." 

"Really, I don't think..." 

"I don't care what you think. Now if your ass isn't in my living room in the next hour, I'm going to bring my father over there and we'll drag you out by force. Have I made myself clear?" 

"Perfectly." 

"And am I going to have to make good on that promise?" 

"Would you really do that to me?" 

"I don't make idle threats. And I have two people here who will back me up on that statement." 

Both her parents were grinning and nodding. 

"You'd better do as she says," Catherine called out. 

"Okay, I'll pack my bag and be over soon." 

"One hour, Armando. Then I'm coming after you." 

"Good-bye, Cass." 

"Good-bye, Armando." She hung up the phone and looked at the clock, making note of the time. Then she returned to the game she'd been playing with her parents. 

"What's wrong with your friend, dear?" her mother asked. 

"Oh, he woke up on the wrong side of bed this morning and was afraid he'd infect us with his bad mood. As if that were possible." Cass was surprised to find she meant it. So far she had really enjoyed having her parents here, aside from that little conversation with her father about her sex life, everything had been going well. 

"Cassandra, would you mind if your mother and I took your truck and drove around a bit this afternoon?" her father asked. 

"Why? Tired of my company so soon?" She had an idea of what was going on but wanted to tease her dad as he had so often done to her. 

"Well, as a matter of fact, yes. We love you, honey. But you're boring." Carl face was completely deadpan as he said that. 

Cass feigned hurt feelings. "Well, if that's the way you feel. I suppose you should take off for a while." 

Neither of them could keep up the charade for very long and they soon burst out laughing. "Dad, there's no reason for you two to leave. I think we're perfectly capable of conducting ourselves in a mature, socially acceptable fashion in front of you." 

"I know you are honey. I just thought you might like some time alone with your young man." 

"Dad, if we wanted time alone, I'd just take him out to the barn. That's what I used to do back home." She'd never admit it to her parents but she was secretly glad they'd given her this opportunity. She wanted to find out what had made Armando so moody today. "But you have to stay for lunch. I made chili just the way you and mom like it. And I'm gonna make corn bread." 

"Okay, but we leave right after we eat." 

"And you have to come back for dinner." 

"What time were you planning to eat?" 

"Well, it's Christmas Eve which means we don't eat until seven o'clock if memory serves me correctly." 

"Memory serves you very well dear," was her mother's comment. 

As they were finishing their game, Cass heard the dogs barking in the kennel. She looked out the window and saw Armando's Buick coming up the driveway. He parked in the turn around next to Cass' truck. She watched as his long legs swung out the open driver's side door. She wouldn't admit anywhere but in the deepest recesses of her mind that she loved to watch him move. Sinew and bone worked effortlessly together in his body. He carried himself so well, a trait she'd found lacking in most men. He projected a casual self-confidence. Not the swaggering bravado that so many guys, especially in this town, projected. No, here was a person who'd long ago accepted who he was and found contentment in that persona. 

He smiled when he saw her waiting at the door for him. He didn't know how he'd fallen for her so fast. Physically, she was not like any other woman he'd pursued. Maybe it was something in the water that had changed his tastes. There were some things in life he didn't question. And he knew not to question why this creature had been brought into his life. He just accepted that some how he'd been blessed. 

He studied her for a moment; watching how she truly inhabited the space she stood in. She did that sometimes. In a crowd, she would often allow herself to blend into the background. But standing alone, she almost vibrated with an intensity he'd not seen in other women. 

She smiled warmly back at him. Not moving from the porch to greet him she held out her arms to him. He ran to her and embraced her tightly burying his face in her auburn hair. 

"I'm so glad to see you," he muttered. 

"Oh?" she questioned. "It didn't sound like it on the phone," she chided. 

"I was acting like an idiot when I called you." 

"No argument from me. Now come inside. Lunch will be ready soon." 

She took him by the hand and led him into the house. Now that her parents had a better idea of how things stood between them, she was less reluctant to behave in her usual manner with him. 

Catherine was in the kitchen when they walked in already starting on the cornbread. 

"Mom! Get outa here. You're supposed to be on vacation. Let me take care of that." 

"Dear, I don't think making a little batch of cornbread is going to ruin my trip. You have company. Go entertain and let me take care of this." 

"Yes, I do have company; you, dad and Armando. And I do not let company work for their meals." 

"Cassandra, I am making the cornbread and there will be no further discussion of the matter." 

It was a tone of voice she'd not heard from her mother in many years. Armando smiled quietly to himself. He'd heard Cass use that same tone on more than one occasion. Now he knew where it came from. He took a step back clearing the kitchen. He'd seen his own mother and sisters in battle mode before and knew the inevitable argument that was on its way. 

Surprisingly, Cass let the issue go with an impertinent toss of her head and a casual "suit yourself" tossed over her shoulder as she left. 

She was irritated with her mother but she refused to show it. Instead she sat down at the piano and began to play Christmas carols. She was surprised when Armando joined her on the piano bench. She was even more surprised when he began singing as she played. She smiled at him as she played the last chords of the song and then chorded into "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas". It was a song they both felt very deeply about now that they lived in the desert. Then she played "Let it Snow". As she played, she considered what song she would do next. "I'll be Home for Christmas" seemed like the perfect choice but she wasn't sure that was a good idea without knowing for sure, what had upset him this morning. Instead she chose Christopher's favorite, "We Need a Little Christmas". It seemed a more upbeat choice. Soon they heard a bass voice join with them. Cass looked up and smiled at her father while continuing the impromptu concert. It wasn't long before Catherine emerged from the kitchen and sang with them too. Soon, Cass had exhausted her repertoire of Christmas carols though she wasn't quite willing to stop playing. From piano lessons long ago came to mind a Bach minuet that she had liked. It was a simple piece but seemed fitting for the time. 

When she finally lifted her hands from the keyboard, she let them fall limply in her lap. Armando squeezed her shoulder in appreciation. Then he leaned over and whispered so that only she would hear him. 

"Ms. Peacock, you are a woman of unplumbed depths." 

She reached up to hold his head while she kissed his cheek and whispered her reply. "Thank you. And by the way, I've been plumbed once. Remember? You were there." There was a mischievous smile on her face. And Armando blushed and straightened his back. 

"Cass, I had no idea you were so musical. Why haven't you sung for me before?" he asked out loud. 

"You never asked me to." 

"Voice like an angel," was Carl's description. 

"But he's not prejudiced or anything just because I'm his daughter." 

"Of course, not." Carl proclaimed. 

The oven timer buzzed its signal. Cass and Catherine both headed for the kitchen to check on the corn bread. 

Carl looked at Armando. "I think that's our cue to stand back and let them take care of things. Cassandra's like her mother in many respects. And having people underfoot in the kitchen is one of them." 

But Armando, ever curious, at least had to go watch the two women work. He stood at the entrance and saw Cass was setting the table in the breakfast nook while her mother was slicing the corn bread and stacking it on a plate. He noticed one large and one smaller pot of chili but wasn't about to get close enough to tell what the difference was. 

"Dad", Cass called out, "What do you want to drink?" 

"What do I usually drink with chili?" came his reply from the living room. 

"Just checking." She turned to look at Armando. "How about you?" 

"What are my choices?" 

"The same ones you always have when you're here." 

"Beer?" 

"Okay, beer for dad and Armando. Water for mom. Coke for me." She turned again and busied herself with things in the fridge. Within minutes lunch was ready and they were dishing up bowls of Cass' good Midwestern chili. Armando noticed that Catherine got hers from the smaller pot. He inquired as to the difference. 

"I'm a purist. I don't like macaroni in my chili. But the rest of the family always did. So I just got in the habit of pulling some off for me before I put the macaroni in the remainder." 

"Yeah," Cass chimed in, "and we always liked ours a little spicier than Mom's delicate palate would accept." She winked at her mother who refused to acknowledge the jibe. 

Shortly, they were all seated in the small breakfast nook and busy eating. The only sound was the stereo playing softly in the background. Cass always considered silence at the table to be a positive sign. To her it meant the meal was so good that the diners didn't want to stop eating long enough to talk. She smiled to herself. She looked around and noticed that hers was not the only empty bowl on the table. 

"You know," she said, breaking the silence, "we should have done this before we started but better late than never. I'm feeling like we should be counting our blessings." 

Armando grinned at her. But it was Catherine who spoke up. 

"You're right. There's no reason to restrict that custom to Thanksgiving. And I think your grandmother's spirit would be pleased to know we're continuing her tradition. Cassandra, will you start?" 

Cass thought for a moment about all her blessings. "I am blessed to have a family who loves me and supports me," she proclaimed and then looked at Armando. 

"I am blessed to have met Cassandra Bartholomew Lindsey and to have her as part of my new life." 

Carl was next. "I am blessed with a wife who's loved me and stood with me for forty-five years." 

Catherine blushed lightly. "And I am blessed with a husband who knows how to make me feel special." 

Cass' mother looked at her wondering if she'd continue or stop there. Cass sat silently, counting some of her many blessings in her head. She didn't realize at first that her mother was staring at her. Startled, she looked up and spoke the Wiccan phrase that she found so comforting, "Blessed be." Both her parents shot her a puzzled look but Armando didn't appear to be phased but he could sense her discomfort. 

"Well," he said, "we all appear to be truly blessed. And I think I'm going to bless my stomach with another bowl of chili." 

Cass sat on the end of the bench so she grabbed his bowl and hers and walked to the kitchen to refill them. When she returned, she offered to get more for her folks. Her mother declined but her father accepted with his thanks. When she sat down again, Armando opened the conversation. 

"So, what are the plans for the afternoon?" 

"Catherine and I are going to run some errands. We've still got preparations to make for Cassandra's birthday party," answered Carl. 

"Birthday party?" was Armando's question. 

"Dear, haven't you invited him?" Catherine asked. 

"Mom, I told you yesterday I've quit celebrating my birthday. And this morning you two said you were just gonna go driving around." Cass' tone was accusatory. 

"Well, you might have but that doesn't mean your father and I can't." 

"Fine. Go ahead. Just don't include me in your plans." 

"But dear, it's your birthday. We have to include you. Besides, that was the whole point of our trip to be here for both Christmas and your birthday." 

Cass rolled her eyes. She could tell this was about to escalate into a full- scale argument; the kind she really wanted to avoid. She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. She felt Armando's hand on her knee. 

"Feeling like you need a mediator?" he asked. "How about I put some of my broker's skills to work and offer a compromise?" 

He saw heads nod around the table. 

"When is this birthday of which I'd not been informed?" 

"Sunday," Cass sighed. 

"Fine, then I'd like to invite you all to come over and spend the day at my home Sunday. If the weather holds, we might even be able to go swimming or just relax in the hot tub. I'll make sure Mrs. Petropolis fixes us a meal special enough for a celebration. But we won't actually have a party. Just four adults having a pleasant meal together." 

"How nice of you!" exclaimed Catherine. 

"Well, I was planning to ask you over anyway as a way to repay all the hospitality you've shown me. So this seemed like a good time to do it." 

"Sounds like a fine compromise to me," Carl said. "How about you Cass?" 

Cass looked open mouthed at her father. This was the first time he'd ever called her by anything other than her full name. 

"Yeah, that's fine," she replied, distracted. 

"In that case, Carl, we'll have to change our plans for this afternoon and go buy swimsuits." Catherine sounded excited at the prospect. She excused herself and left the others to finish their lunch. Carl quickly finished his bowl of chili to join his wife, leaving Cass and Armando to sit at the table alone. 

"Are you okay?" Armando asked. "You look a little disoriented." 

"Huh? I guess I am. Thanks for the compromise." 

"Well, I had originally planned to have you and your parents out Saturday night and combine that with our usual date. But this works out better." 

"Yeah, well let's get the dishes washed. Then I can get supper started." 

"Supper?" 

"I'm making a pot roast. It takes several hours if you do it right. Plus I want to talk to you." She stood up and gathered the dishes. Leftovers were quickly dispatched to the fridge while the sink was filled with hot soapy water. Fortunately, the simple meal hadn't generated much to wash so the dish drainer was soon filled. Cass stripped off the gloves she wore, took Armando by the hand and led him to the deck. 

"Mom, Dad, we'll be on the deck if you need us. If not, the keys are in the truck," she called out as they passed through the living room. 

When they settled in the Adirondack chairs Armando glanced over at Cass. 

"You got any Italian blood in your family?" 

This was not the topic of conversation she had expected. "Not that I'm aware of. Why do you ask?" 

"Oh, just the way you yell across the house at each other. It reminds me of when I was a kid." 

"And you think this is some sort of Italian trait?" 

"Well, it was the same way in my friends' homes too. And they were mostly Italian." 

"Oh. I just figured it was because we were too lazy to get up and go find the person we were yelling at. You know, much easier to just shout your intentions and then run out the door." 

"Yeah, I guess I never thought of it that way." 

"Are you feeling any better than you did when I first spoke to you this morning?" 

He reached over and held her hand. "Yeah Cass, I am. Thanks." 

"So, when are you going to tell me what had you so grumpy this morning?" 

"Oh, a combination of a bad Tuesday, not sleeping well and a crummy e-mail this morning." 

"I noticed the dark circles under your eyes. Are you still having nightmares?" 

"Damn," he thought. He hoped she would have forgotten that by now. He glanced at her and realized she was looking directly into his eyes. He wanted with all his soul to lie to her but found he couldn't. "Yes," he admitted quietly. 

"Still unwilling to tell me the content of your dreams?" 

"Oh, now that's not fair, Cass. You know I'd tell you if I could." 

"No, I don't think you would. I think you're too damn stubborn and macho for your own good. I can help you if you'll give me a chance." 

"No, Cass. You can't. This is something I've got to work through by myself." 

He looked off into the horizon, eyes glazing over at the thought of the scenes that continued to haunt him. The problem was that there were no faces, just amorphous shapes and unrecognizable voices. A woman's scream of peril; menacing figures; and he, impotent to help. He didn't want to worry Cass unnecessarily. For all he knew, he could be dreaming of Casey Sinclair, the woman Ray had loved. She was an author who went by the pen name, Cassandra Hope. He thought of Casey and compared her to Cass. The similarities went beyond the name. They were both strong, independent women with loving, giving spirits. Casey had been in peril once. Ray was supposed to be guarding her but an obsessed fan had out witted him, drugged Casey and raped her. Then the bastard had set fire to his home attempting to kill himself and Casey. Ray had killed the man and Benton had gotten Casey to safety but the damage had been done. Ray had carried the memory with him to Las Vegas. And now it was haunting the dreams of Armando. He shook his head, trying to free himself of the vision. 

Cass got out of her chair and kneeled before him holding both his hands in hers. 

"You're wrong, Armando. You don't have to work through this yourself. I want to help you if you'll let me." 

"And what are you gonna do; cast a spell and make it all go away?" His anger at her persistence was rising. 

"Oh, if only it were that easy." She shook her head and then looked down at his knees. She didn't know just how much she should tell him. 

"Armando, there was a time, back in Indiana, not long before I moved to Chicago, when I was plagued by nightmares. It was so bad that I started taking downers thinking I just wasn't getting into a deep enough sleep. That didn't work so I started taking uppers just so I wouldn't fall asleep. By the way, I sincerely do not endorse that strategy. Between the drugs and the nightmares, I was a wreck. I was blessed to find a counselor who helped me through it. He showed me methods for working through my fears in my waking hours so they couldn't haunt my sleep." 

"And I'm assuming I'd have to tell you what the nightmares are?" 

"That would be the logical place to start." 

"Sorry, Cass. No go." 

"Why not, damnit?" She was angry now. 

"Before Las Vegas," he shouted back. 

"Are you sure?" she asked. 

"Yes," he lied trying to convince himself. 

"Bullshit! Something is bothering you here and now. Three weeks ago you were in my bed, having a nightmare. You said 'Cassandra'. " 

"And you think you're the only Cassandra I've ever known?" he blurted out. 

As a matter of fact, she did. It had not occurred to her that he would have known another woman with the same name. And it was odd that he'd said Cassandra. Ever since he'd learned her full name, he'd virtually always called her 'Cass' as she preferred. 

She looked sheepish. "Well, you've got a point. I suppose I'm not the only Cassandra in the world. But isn't there anything you can tell me about this nightmare?" 

He gazed at her for a long moment. He could tell she was not going to give up the subject. She was like Diefenbaker on the trail of a donut. "Cass, there isn't much to tell. I guess that's what's disturbing. The images are all so vague. The only thing that's clear is the overwhelming fear." 

"And you don't know what's causing the fear?" 

"Not entirely." 

She looked at him for several minutes. Was it bizarre to feel blessed for having clear nightmares? She wasn't sure. But at least her nightmares had a single source and a recurring theme. "So, was this other Cassandra a friend?" 

"Cass, please, don't go there." 

"Sorry, I was just trying to help. Obviously, I'm not going to be able to since there are things you can't talk to me about. So, please, find someone you can talk to. There is help out there. You just have to find it." 

"Thanks for your concern. I'll check into it next week," he said, knowing he wouldn't. "But in the mean time, could I talk you into giving me another massage?" 

"Right now?" 

"Unless you think you'll have enough energy after Mass tonight." 

"Good point." She looked at her watch. "Yeah, I think we've got time. Do you want to take a warm shower first?" 

"No, I think just the massage will do me a world of good." 

She stood up and held her hands out to him. He took them and let her pull him out of the low slung chair. When he was standing upright, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. She broke the embrace first but kept one arm around his waist as they walked inside through the living room. She stopped at the linen closet to pull out two sheets and a bottle of massage oil. They continued on into her bedroom. She directed him to remove his clothes while she got ready. Once again she spread a sheet on the floor for him to lie on. She made sure the harp music CD was playing. When she turned around, Armando was already down on the floor. She took a quick look at his beautiful body and suppressed the surge of desire that swept through her. Maybe her father had been right. Perhaps she should tell him the truth. But not now. He'd asked for a massage, nothing else. She covered him with a sheet, kneeled by his head and began the ritual she'd learned long ago. 

When she had finished, she he was limp on the sheet. She had managed to removed most of the tension from his body. He gave her a weak smile. She hugged him and thanked him. 

"What for?" he mumbled. 

"Massage etiquette. You've trusted me enough to let me touch your body; some reasonably private parts of your body I might add." 

"Hmmm. Never thought of it like that." 

"Yeah, now are you feeling like you want to take a nap?" 

"You bet Join me?" 

"Not at the moment. I've got work to do. But why don't you get up and lie down on the bed? I'll join you later." 

"Okay." It was with great effort that Armando pulled himself up off the floor to move to Cass' bed. She again wrapped him in the sheet and let him doze peacefully. She watched him for a few minutes until his slow, even, deep breaths told her he had fallen asleep. She sat on the floor by the side of the bed , resting her head and her arms on the edge of the mattress. There was something very soothing in watching him nap. 

Soon, though, she had to pull herself out of her reverie. "Dinner's not going to fix itself," she told herself. She walked to the kitchen and found her cherished dutch oven. The english roast she had picked up from the butcher went in with some water and she put it on the stove to brown. She knew she had about an hour before she needed to tend to it again, so she walked out to the kennels. 

Cass knew that Otis took fine care of the dogs. But Ray and Benny needed to be worked. And Almak needed to have the chance to stretch his legs. She regretted that they lived in such a temperate area. He would have been a great sled dog. She thought about making some sort of cart that he could pull around the farm and knew those plans would have to wait until next year. Benny and Ray were in high good spirits, barking to her as she entered the building. She grabbed the training collar and lead from Benny's run first. She knew Ray would be petulant but then she could spend time after his training session giving him the affection he craved. Benny would be less needful of such attention; a pat on the head and a few words of acknowledgement were all he needed. 

Cass had been obedience training the two dogs practically since the day she'd brought them home. Because Corgis are herding dogs, they both took directions naturally but she had never been fond of blindly obedient dogs. She wanted dogs who would think. She supposed that's why Almak had a special place in his heart. There were times she was certain she could see his brain figuring out a problem. 

Benny worked well, precise in all his movements. When she told him to lie down, he never just dropped to the floor like Ray did. He stopped all motion first then sank directly to the ground. When she had him move on he reversed the process; standing up, delicately shaking his fur back into place and then walked forward. His training time was soon over. She gave him a good scratching behind the ears, told him how good he was and then put him in his run. 

Ray was practically bouncing off the concrete in anticipation of his turn. Cass had his collar and lead ready when she entered the run. It took a stern "that'll do" to get him to settle down. Once she had his collar on him, he was a willing worker. Though not as precise in his movements as Benny, he watched her closely, nearly anticipating every move she made. He especially enjoyed it when she brought out the gloves for him to retrieve, which was unusual for a herding dog. But he quivered in anticipation as he sat by her side waiting to be told which glove to go get. 

When his training time was over she sat cross-legged on the floor with Ray in her lap. She started by scratching over his hips and just above what, on a different breed would have been the tail. He stuck his muzzle in the air to show his appreciation. Then she massaged up his back and rib cage until she was rubbing deeply behind his ears. He sighed in pleasure at the attention. She took a moment to briefly rub his belly before she reluctantly put him back in his run. 

As she walked towards the door, Almak barked and whined. Cass turned around and walked back to him. He started running in small circles in the enclosure. "What, you want to work too? That's a first." He barked again so she looked at her watch. She'd been out of the house just over thirty minutes. By her calculations, she could spare a few more for him. 

When Almak had been a puppy, Cass insisted that he be trained in basic obedience. She had taken dogs through several years of 4-H training while in school and refused to live with a canine that didn't have some manners. However, Almak had proven true to his arctic heritage. His brain permanently resided at the north pole and his body wanted to follow. 'Never trust a slanty eyed dog,' had been the words she'd heard from dog obedience trainers. 'The minute you let your guard down, they'll take off like a shot.' It had taken a lot of work and much patience but they'd managed to get Almak to the point where he earned a Canine Good Citizen title from the American Kennel Club. Now he was practically begging to have the metal training collar off slipped around his neck. 

Cass went over to the box where she kept her training equipment and dug out a slip collar big enough for the Husky mix. She went back to his run and saw that he was sitting patiently for her. She slipped the collar over his head checking for a good fit and then snapped the lead on it. He practically trotted beside her as she walked out to the open area. She was surprised by his attentiveness as she heeled him around the floor. It was almost as if some of Benny's discipline had rubbed off on him. She was very pleased and she wondered for a minute if perhaps she shouldn't be working with him more often. 

She reluctantly put him back in his pen and walked back to the house. The smell of beef brown was evident as she walked in the door. She had timed her return perfectly. After turning the roast and pouring more water on it headed downstairs to her studio. Armando's sweater was blocked and needed to be wrapped. She found an appropriately sized box and lined it with white tissue. She gently folded the wool sweater and placed it carefully in the box, folding the tissue paper over it before grabbing the lid. She closed the box and pulled out a sheet of wrapping paper with polar bears on it. Once the box was wrapped she wound ribbon into a bow and applied it carefully to the package. She was pleased with the end result. . She carried the box upstairs and placed it under the trees. She tiptoed to the bedroom to checked on Armando. He was sleeping soundly. She had promised to nap with him but she had some other things she needed to do. She decided to take care of a few minor details, including dinner before she joined him. 

A half hour later she slipped silently into her bedroom. Armando was still sleeping. She pulled off her boots set an alarm and slid onto the bed with him. He was on his side facing the wall. She spooned her body behind his and carefully dropped one arm across his shoulder. She laid there for just a moment listening to him breathing in and out when she felt him stirring beneath her arm. He mumbled something in his sleep. Fearing he was starting to have another nightmare she decided to try to change his dream by applying a little external stimulus. She began to nibble on his ear and speak softly to him. 

"Armando, it's Cass Lindsey. You're in my home, in my bed. Stay with me, sweetie. Stay right here in my arms." She continued to kiss him and stroke her hand down his arm, across his hip to his leg then bring it back up the front of his leg and over his torso and chest. 

"We're doin' okay. Nothing can hurt us here." She scattered kisses over his body while speaking to him. Momentarily he rolled over on to his other side. It appeared that the dream had passed. His breathing had settled into a nice even rhythm again. She left her hand resting on his arm to let him know she was still there but eventually grew uncomfortable in that position. She rolled over on her back and felt him reach out for her. So she continued her roll on to her right side and let him embrace her from behind. Even with her pants on, she could feel his erection pressed into the small of her back. She smiled at the sensation knowing he couldn't see her but suppressed a contented sigh. 

She dozed off and didn't know what time it was when she felt him snuggle closer to her; kissing the back of her neck and caressing her. Realizing he was awake, she started to giggle. "You're supposed to be taking a nap," she commented. 

"I am napping," he replied. "I'm having a dream about this beautiful woman who comes to bed with me, nibbles on my ears, kisses and caresses my body and whispers endearments to me." 

"Well, isn't that better than vague nightmares of fear and panic?" 

"Oh, infinitely better." 

"Well, I hate to tell you this but you're not dreaming. We really are in bed together. I really did kiss and caress you. And I really did whisper endearments to you." 

"I was hoping you'd say that," he murmured as he untucked her shirt to caress the sweet flesh of her abdomen. 

With a sudden burst of energy, she rolled over to face him. "However, I'm afraid it's going to have to end here." 

"Aww, Cass," he whined. 

"It's not that I don't want to continue but the timing isn't good. I have no idea when my folks will return. And even though they seem to be okay with the idea of us as lovers, it's not in good taste to flaunt it." 

"Yeah, I suppose you're right. But can't we just stay here and neck for a while?" 

"Oh, I don't know. You're awfully tempting. I may not be able to restrain myself." 

"How about if I restrain you?" 

"Ooh, very kinky." 

"That's not what I meant. Although, it's something we could explore at a future date..." 

"Okay, then just what did you mean?" 

"I was just offering to be my usual perfect gentlemanly self. You call the shots. You say up front how far we go and we go no farther." 

"What if I change my mind along the way?" 

"I won't let you." 

"Really?" 

"On my word as a transvestite." 

"What?!?" 

"Never mind, it's an old joke." 

"Well, the idea of lying here cuddling with you does have its merits." 

"Then let's do it. You say now, how far." 

She thought about it for a few minutes. "My clothes stay on my body." 

"Fastened?" 

"And all snaps, buttons, zippers and other closures stay as they currently are." 

"Then those are the rule and neither of us is allowed to break them." 

They spent several long minutes simply embraced in each other arms. Armando kissed the soft lips that were just inches in front of him. She tasted faintly of the berry flavored lip balm he knew she used liberally. Her hair smelled of jasmine when he kissed that spot behind her right ear that he knew was so sensitive. She shivered below him and moaned softly. 

He moaned as well when he felt her fingertips running down his spine. She knew he was extra sensitive to a light touch just above his tailbone. She'd discovered that during the massages. She was thankful for taking that weekend massage class back in Chicago. She'd done it so she could help her brother but she'd also discovered that it allowed you to learn a lot about a person's body without being sexually intimate. His moan deepened when she found his coccyx. She then let her fingers wander off to his sides and run them back up his ribs. 

He tentatively reached under her shirt and when she did not protest, he began to fondle her breasts. He could feel her nipples through the thin fabric of her bra and used the sheer nylon to his advantage. 

"Do you have any idea what that does to me?" she asked. 

"Yeah." He grinned wickedly. "Now don't you wish you'd been a little more liberal in your rules." 

She grinned back. "No, now I get to see if you're up to a challenge." 

That was all he needed to hear. He'd never been one to resist a challenge. He took her hand and gently pinned them above her head. 

"Lay still, Cass. This is all for you." 

He kissed her smiling face and grabbed the hem of the emerald green long sleeved t-shirt she was wearing and pulled it up over her head. 

"Rules." 

"I'm just moving it; not removing it," he temporized. 

He left it there where it would effectively prevent her from using her arms to touch him but would be easy to pull back on if the need appeared. He then kissed his way back to her breasts. He could see now that the bra she was wearing was made of a very sheer iridescent nylon in a bright Christmas red color. Once again he let his fingers trail across her breasts in the barest of caresses letting her nipples harden into their former state. She shivered with anticipation and looked into his face as he sat back on his heels straddling her legs. He continued his caress watching her face contort and feeling her body squirm with pleasure. It was a sight he hadn't seen in almost two months and it made him smile. 

He moved back a bit, then leaned over and took one breast, still covered into his mouth and exhaled. The feel of his hot breath made her squirm and moan even more. At that moment, he almost regretted agreeing to her rules. He wanted her badly. He wanted to bury himself into her, to feel her warmth surround him and draw him in. But maybe this was better. If he could tease and taunt her enough, eventually she would give in and abandon herself to the passion that they'd shared after the masquerade ball. 

That thought is what restrained him. It's all that kept him from ripping her clothes off and satisfying his need. Though he knew in his brain that rape was a crime of violence and not of passion, he could understand how a man could want a woman so much, that he would completely discount her. A momentary vision of Casey, wrapped in a sheet being taken to the hospital after she'd been raped flashed across his memory and quickly cooled his ardor. "No," he thought, "there's never a reason to discount another person." 

Cass sensed the change in him almost as quickly as it happened. She started to say something but then his mouth claimed hers in a soft, loving kiss. 

"I love you, Cass. And I'll never let anyone harm you." 

"I love you, too," she responded. 

Her words inspired him to his former passion. He ran one hand up the inside of her thigh. Stopping at the junction of leg and body. He pressed firmly against her softness. Even through the fabric of her pants, he could feel the heat that emanated. And it pleased him. He kept that hand in place, gently massaging and kneading while the other hand returned to her breasts. Within moments she was so aroused that she was almost panting. 

"Oh, fuck the rules," she gasped. "Make love with me, Armando. I want you so badly." 

"No," he replied still grinning mischievously. "You set the rules now you're going to have to live by them." 

"You don't understand. I need..." 

"I know what you need," he said. "I need it too," was his thought. 

He moved to her side and stretched out beside her. Lying on his side, one hand propping up his head so he could watch her, he slid the other hand across her belly and worked it under the waistband of her trousers. He was grateful that the pants had elastic at the sides and allowed a little 'give' in the waistband. As his hand crept lower he felt the elastic edge of her panties and surmised them to be made of the same fabric as he bra. He smiled at the knowledge that underneath her casual, tough, independent, agrarian exterior, there lived a woman who still enjoyed frivolities like matching lingerie. 

He inched his hand further into her panties and watched her face closely. Her eyes were closed but her lips were slightly parted. Her features were perfectly composed. She was barely breathing, lying perfectly still in anticipation of what he would do next. He stayed perfectly still for just a moment, watching her and enjoying what he saw. He knew he wanted to see this picture more often. 

He heard her moan softly and felt her hips shift in a slight upward motion. His smile grew larger as he knew what that small movement meant. He reached further and found the object of his search. The heat that he'd detected early was a mere warmth compared to the near inferno that now awaited him. He heard her gasp as his fingers entered her most intimate spot. And then she sighed deeply. Her sounds inspired him to bring her almost to a pinnacle of pleasure several times before he finally touched her in a way that was certain to give her release. 

For several minutes they laid there silently. Neither of them moved in the slightest way. Cass opened her eyes, turned her head and looked at her lover. 

"I see you're very good at rising to a challenge," she commented. 

"Yes," he laughed, "I rise well." 

"You certainly do," she commented after taking a glance down his body. He was very erect and obviously very aroused. Growing up with two brothers, she'd never really bought into the idea of 'blue balls' but knew instinctively that Armando would reciprocal attentions. 

She struggled to sit up and pull her shirt down to its proper place. Then she pushed him over so he laid flat on his back. She began kissing his face and neck, darting her tongue in and out of his mouth. Her kisses ran down chest and across his tight abs to his navel. She stopped when she felt the length of him nudging her face. She reached across his body, grabbed his back and began pulling. 

"Roll over sweetie, I've got something special in mind for you." 

He eagerly complied with her wishes and was momentarily lying on his stomach. She began kissing the back of his neck and worked her way across his shoulders. Soon she was planting kisses all over his back in random fashion but always working down toward the foot of the bed. He felt her fingers flutter across the exquisite spot on his spine just above his tailbone. Then her lips and tongue replaced her fingers and he moaned his approval. He had no idea how she'd found this spot when he hadn't even known about it. But he was writhing now in hedonistic pleasure. He knew he was very close to the edge and didn't want their time together to end this way. 

"Please, Cass, stop." 

She slowly complied with his request but kept her hands on his body, maintaining the electricity that flowed between them. 

At that moment they both heard the sounds of her truck pulling up the driveway and the dogs barking a welcome. Her parents had returned. They shared a quick wide-eyed look and Cass began to giggle. 

"I'll go see what mom and dad have been doing and let you take care of..." She jumped to the floor and waved her hand in his direction. She slipped out of the room and closed the door quickly behind her. She crossed into the second bathroom, shut the door and turned the faucet on full blast to cover the sounds of her hysterical giggles. It just seemed so funny that now that she was nearly thirty-four years old, she'd be in such a situation. She soon got her laughter under control and was able to walk out just as her parents walked across the living room. They both looked at her quizzically. 

"I gave Armando a massage and now he's taking a nap," she said, indicating her closed bedroom door. "I didn't want to disturb him just to use the bathroom." 

Her parents continued to look at her. Neither of them said a word. 

"I was going to get a Coke and check on dinner. Can I get either of you anything to drink while I'm in the kitchen?" she offered. 

Carl shook his head and Catherine said a quiet "no thank you dear." 

Cass continued her trip to the kitchen and tried not to giggle any more. The situation still struck her as absolutely absurd but she managed to keep her mirth in check as she lifted the lid of the crock-pot to check on the simmering roast. It smelled wonderful. She replaced the lid and glanced at her watch. Five o'clock, it read. She opened the fridge and pulled out a can of Coca-Cola barely noticing that someone else had entered the kitchen. 

"Oh!" she exclaimed when she saw Armando standing in the doorway leaning against the frame. His lazy grin shined at her from beneath hazel eyes. She took a moment to compose herself before she looked directly at him. "Did you have a good nap?" she asked politely. 

"Yes, thank you. I feel much better." 

"Good, I'm glad to hear that. You looked pretty beat when you came over." 

"Yeah, you know how it is this time of year. Never enough time to get everything done so sleep is usually what goes first." 

"I know. I'm so thankful I hired Otis to help with the animals. He's been a great help to me." 

He continued to stand there and smile at her. Her giggles threatened to return but were cut off by the sound of another truck in the driveway. 

"Excuse me," she muttered as she pushed past him on her way to the door. She stepped outside to say hello to Otis and talk to the man for a few minutes. 

Not knowing what else to do, Armando went to the refrigerator and grabbed a beer for himself before walking back into the dining room. He drank his beer and watched Cass through the window. 

"Do you know that man?" Carl asked referring to Otis. 

"Not well. I know he's currently working with Cass in one of the art therapy groups at the center. He seems like a nice guy, though. And he's very protective of your daughter." 

"Yeah, she seems to inspire those feelings in men. Of course, it's about that time that she informs them she doesn't need them." 

"Boy, haven't I heard that before?" Armando wasn't sure where this conversation was going but didn't feel uncomfortable. 

"You'd think that being the youngest child and the only girl she'd be quite the opposite. Lord knows her brothers tried to spoil her and look out for her at every turn. But she was born with that independent streak and I think it's gonna stay with her for the rest of her life." 

"Well, there's nothing wrong with being able to take care of yourself. God knows it can be a cold world out there." 

"Yeah, but maybe I'm old fashioned enough to think that you shouldn't have to do it all on your own. I think you ought to have someone you can share your joys and sorrows with. Someone to love you even when you feel unlovable..." 

"Carl, what are you leading up to? Is this where you ask me what my intentions are towards your daughter?" 

"Actually, this is where I was trying not to ask in hopes that you would just volunteer the information." 

Armando laughed for a moment and then looked the older man directly in the eyes. "Carl, I love Cass and I intend to continue loving her for as long a she lets me. And then maybe a little longer after that. But I never bet on the future. Six months ago, I had no idea that I'd be living where I am and in this job. Now I'm here and enjoying it as much as I can." 

Carl sighed. "I appreciate your honesty. It's just that..." 

"It's just that you love your daughter very much and don't want to see her unhappy." 

"You sound like a parent. You have any kids?" 

"None that I know of," he replied. 

Carl chuckled. "Well, you'd be a good dad. I can tell." 

"Thanks, Carl." 

He took another long drink of his beer and looked out the window again. He realized that Cass and Otis were nowhere to be seen. He knew Cass wasn't really dressed to be working in the barn so perhaps she'd just gone out to the kennel. He thought about going outside to look for her but thought better of it. Instead he chose to go examine the Christmas tree again. He heard the sound of Christmas carols coming from the piano. He looked, thinking that Cass had come in without his knowledge. But it was her mother who played. 

He walked over and began to sing with the music. It felt great to celebrate something so real. Those dinners the Iguana family threw after a successful deal or even a hit were called celebrations but he'd never really bought into it. He just couldn't bring himself to be happy about the things they were reveling in. 

He didn't know how long he and Catherine had sung together when Cass finally came back in the house. He walked over to her and gave her a big hug. 

"Where's dad?" she asked. 

"He's taking a nap dear. I think I tired him out." 

Both Cass and Armando let that slip by unremarked. And walked to the kitchen. He gladly helped peel potatoes while she took care of the onions. Fortunately, baby carrots don't need peeled. She did her impersonation of a samurai warrior while cutting the cabbage into quarters and made him laugh. 

Soon dinner was ready and everyone gathered round the table in the dining room. Cass didn't use this area often but this was, after all, Christmas Eve. This would be their family dinner together. 

"Cass, it's your home. You start with the blessings," her father instructed as he took her hand and his wife's. "And you can't use the one you used at lunch." 

She smiled as she grabbed Armando's hand and saw him complete the circle. "I am blessed with the friendship of Armando." 

"I am blessed by the love and acceptance of Carl and Catherine Lindsey." 

"I am blessed to have raised three wonderful children," said Catherine. 

"I am blessed to know Cassandra has friends she can count on." Carl paused for a moment looking at Armando. "Now let's eat." 

Dinner was consumed with happy conversations about past Christmases at the Lindsey home. By the end of the meal, Armando could almost picture the house back in LaPorte with its entryway and staircase. The memories felt familiar as he thought of his family and friends back in Chicago. He was certain his mother would invite Fraser to spend Christmas with Vecchio's. He wondered if his friend would accept the invitation. Or would he remain alone in his apartment with Diefenbaker? 

Soon, everyone had eaten their fill of the beef and vegetables. Carl informed Armando that traditionally the men of the family had to do the dishes on Christmas Eve. Cass reminded them that she had a dishwasher so it shouldn't be too much of a chore. 

While the guys were clearing the table, Cass used the time to pull a set of bed linens out of the closet. Her mother, puzzled, looked at her. 

"I'm going to make up the futon in my office for Armando. Don't you remember inviting him to spend the night?" 

"Oh, yes, I just assumed he'd be staying in your room." 

"In which case I'd still need to make up the futon for me." 

Catherine attempted to start a sentence twice but couldn't find the words. Her face turned red with embarrassment. 

"Did you think I was going to invite him to share my bed?" Cass inquired. 

"Umm, well, actually dear, I did." 

"Mom, have you had that talk with dad yet?" 

"Oh yes dear, he told me all about your relationship." 

"And from this you assumed that we'd be sleeping together? And you condone this? 

"Mom, are you sure you're still Catholic? Because we can skip Mass tonight if we need to." 

Catherine laughed. "Oh dear, I can see that I'm up to date but you're not." 

Her mother informed her of the new priest who had recently been assigned to their church. He was even more progressive than Father John had been and had been the primary force in getting the family to come to terms with Christopher's death. And her parents had generalized some of his teachings to include Cassandra and Armando. 

When her mother finished speaking, Cass was dumbfounded. Her jaw hung limply from its hinged joints. It took a moment before she was able to verbalize the feelings that were inside her. "Mom, I'm glad you shared this with me. And I'm really happy that you and dad like Armando. But I'm not comfortable with him sharing my bed even if you are." 

She turned to take the linens to the office. When she finished she returned to the living room to see her father and Armando struggling to bring a large package in and put it under the tree. 

"What's that?" she exclaimed. 

"It's your Christmas present. You didn't think peace on earth was going to come in a small package did you?" Armando teased. 

"Good grief, it's big enough to be a new dishwasher." 

"Oh no, rule number one of buying a present for a woman, never give her something that needs to be plugged in." 

"Damn, I could have used a new circular saw." 

"Then why didn't you tell me that three weeks ago when I asked you what you wanted?" he protested. 

"I didn't think of it," she responded sweetly. 

Armando returned to his car, this time bringing back more presents and his overnight bag. The packages were quickly placed under the tree while Cass took his bag to her office. He joined her there momentarily. 

"Mom and dad assumed we'd be spending the night in my room," she told him. 

"Yeah, I kinda got that idea from your dad." 

"Are you disappointed in your accommodations?" 

"A little. But I'll be less disappointed if you'll give me another massage before bed." He leered at her lecherously. 

"Two massages in one day?" 

"Just a brief one to help me get to sleep?" 

"We'll see. Now we'd better get ready to go to Mass." 

"Yeah, I'd better take a shower and get that massage oil off me." 

"Well, there are your towels," she said pointing to the end of the futon. 

She left him to go to her own room and get ready. She'd already decided to wear her plum dress and a black mohair shrug. So she just needed to run through the shower to rinse off the remnants from working with the dogs hours before. Shower finished, she dried her hair and set it on hot rollers so it would curl back off her face. She applied the minimalist make-up that would highlight her features without making her feel like a clown. She into her bedroom and pulled a plum bra and matching panties from her dresser drawer. Then she found a slip and black stockings. Once dressed, she looked in her closet for shoes. She pulled out a pair of black leather pumps. The heels were higher than she normally wore but she knew she'd have Armando to lean on, literally if she had to. And she felt more festive dressing up. She returned to her bathroom to pull the rollers from her hair. Her now curly auburn tresses gave her a completely different look. She recognized it as the look she'd worn to the masquerade ball. She smiled at the memory before taming the curls with a few pins and some hair spray. 

The Cass that exited her bedroom was far different than the Cass Armando was used to seeing. But he liked what he saw and showed his appreciation with a long whistle. Even her father had to do a double take. He thought of lines from the song Sunrise, Sunset. 'Is this the little girl I carried?' raced across his brain along with 'When did she get to be a beauty?' 

"Well, thank you both," she acknowledge gratefully. "And might I had that you two are looking especially handsome tonight." She smiled at Armando who was wearing a light gray silk suit with a black silk ribbed knit turtleneck underneath it. She knew if she looked at the label it would say 'Armani.' He father was conservatively dressed in a navy blue suit, white shirt and a striped tie. 

Catherine walked in from the guestroom and looked at the other three expectantly. "Is it time to go?" she inquired. 

"Yeah," replied Armando. "It's a bit of a drive so we'd better get going." 

They walked out to his Buick and were soon settled in their places. Cass offered to let her father have the front seat to accommodate his long legs but he waved her off, opting to sit behind her so she moved her sit forward. 

The church Armando took them to was Christ the King. It wasn't the biggest in the area but he'd been there before and felt certain that the Lindseys would be comfortable. They arrived at 11:30 but they could already tell that the service would be well attended. The found seat and settled in. Armando took Cass' hand in his held it tightly. 

The bells in the tower chimed midnight and the service began. "Merry Christmas", Cass whispered in Armando's ear. For the first time she was able to look at Mass objectively. She could appreciate the service without becoming wrapped up in it. She remembered the parts she had always like. And was reminded also of why she'd left. All in all, she was very happy with her choice. 

When the service was over, they drove home listening to Mannheim Steamroller play on the stereo in the Riviera. Cass knew her parents would be exhausted when the got back to the farm. They'd been up since five o'clock the previous morning. She knew her father had taken a nap but Catherine hadn't. Thanks to sleeping in a little that morning and the short nap she'd had with Armando, she was feeling only a little tired. 

They arrived home and as Cass expected, her parents went directly to bed. She went into the kitchen and put the kettle on the burner. She left to gather the two sheets and the oil from her bedroom and take them into Armando. 

"So, I'm gonna get that rubdown after all?" 

"You're going to get a cup of chamomile and valerian tea and then a brief massage to help you sleep." 

"No hope of picking up where we left off when your parents came home?" 

"None." She dropped the sheets on the floor, placed the oil on the arm of the futon and then left the room. She heard him laugh as she walked to the kitchen. A short time later she returned with an earthenware mug in her hand, steam rising from the contents. Armando was lying on the floor as she'd expected. She put the mug on her desk blotter. She knelt on the floor at his head, poured a tiny bit of oil in her hand and rubbed them together to warm them. After a moment of silent meditation she began. 

She had warmed him that this wouldn't be a long massage. Nevertheless, he was slightly disappointed when she had finished. She handed him the cup of warm tea and ordered him to drink it. He gulped it down quickly trying to get past the slightly bitter taste of the valerian that was only partially masked by the honey she'd put in it. He handed the mug back to her and they both stood up. He pulled her into an embrace, kissing her for a long time before letting her go. 

"Good night, Cass." 

"Good night, Armando. Sleep yourself out. We won't start without you." 

She went to her bedroom and stripped off her dress; changing quickly into her pajamas. She washed her face, brushed her teeth and applied lip balm before going to bed. She re-set her alarm clock wanting to get up early enough to start on the preparations for the late afternoon gathering of her friends. 

Sleep did not come quickly that night. Twenty-seven years before she'd have chalked it up to the anticipation that normally came on this night, waiting for the sound of Santa Claus. But now she had far more adult thoughts keeping her awake. She thought of Armando and their afternoon activities. She thought about her father's advice to tell him everything but wasn't sure that was the best idea. After all, they seemed to be doing okay with him being clued in. But what would happen, she thought, if she should have a flashback to that horrible night nearly fifteen years ago? 

She hardly ever had the nightmares anymore, thanks to a skillful counselor and a rape victims support group. But there were times when something as innocuous as a scent in the air, or a glance by a stranger would send her heart pounding and made her want to run as fast as her feet would take her away from the assumed threat. Should she say anything to him? If she did, how much should she say? These questions and more were spinning in her brain when exhaustion finally claimed her. 

An unfamiliar noise woke her up the next morning. She groaned as she rolled over and then shrieked as she came into contact with another body in the bed with her. Also disturbed by the contact, as well as the shriek, Ray and Benny jumped up and began barking. Her head was pounding and their noise was only making it worse. She got them both calmed down and looked at the clock. It was nearly nine. Cass was completely disoriented. She knew Otis wouldn't be coming by this morning so what were the dogs doing in her bed. And why hadn't her alarm gone off at seven like she'd set it? 

Laughter in the doorway caused her to focus her attention elsewhere. It was Armando leaning indolently on the doorframe. He was dressed in black jeans and much too large LaPorte Lancers sweatshirt that Cass recognized as belonging to her father. 

"Your dad took care of the barn chores and I took care of the kennel. Your mom's got breakfast almost ready so I recommend that you get up and join us. She saw him stripping off the sweatshirt as he walked towards her office. She jumped out of bed and nearly stepped on Almak who had been sleeping patiently at her side. She ran a washcloth over her face and brushed her teeth quickly. She'd need to wash her hair before her friend came over but for now she felt like she was okay. Shortly she was dressed and standing in the kitchen. Her mother was setting a huge platter of pancakes on the breakfast table where her father and Armando, now sporting a plum turtleneck in place of the old sweatshirt, were already sitting. 

"Gee," Cass remarked, "looks like Santa's elves decided to give me a hand this morning." 

"Never question help at the holidays," her mother instructed, handing her a cup of green tea. 

Cass took her place on the end of the bench and started the blessing ritual. "I am so incredibly blessed, I don't think I can keep it to just one. But I will. I am blessed to have you all here today." 

"I have to agree with Cass. I know I'm supposed to come up with something different but to be able to share this day with you is the biggest blessing in my life today." 

"I am blessed to have a daughter who doesn't get upset when I take care of her chores for her," said Carl with a grin. 

"And I am blessed with the knowledge that all my years of cooking lessons took root in at least one of my children. Cassandra, I felt like I was in my own kitchen at home, this morning," was Catherine's comment. 

Cass smiled warmly at the compliment and then reached for her juice glass. She hadn't been paying attention to what was in it until the liquid reached her lips. It was a strawberry banana smoothie. She looked accusingly at Armando. 

"I had Nero and Mrs. Petropolis pack a small cooler with the ingredients and the instructions so it would be just the way you like it. Merry Christmas," he said. 

"You're too good to me," she said as she leaned over and kissed his cheek. 

"And don't you forget it." 

Breakfast was quickly consumed and soon everyone had gathered round the tree. Being the youngest, Cass had the job of passing out the presents. She wanted to open the big box from Armando first but he wouldn't let her. He said she had to open the presents from her family first. Everyone took turns opening a package and the 'oohing' and 'ahhing' over what the others had received. Cass held her breath as Armando opened the present she had made for him. His eyes grew wide as he held up the sweater. 

"Cass, it's beautiful." He immediately slipped it on over his head. 

She breathed a sigh of relief as she realized that it fit perfectly. 

"How did you know?" he asked. 

"Oh, a little mouse gave me your measurements. I figured you might like something warm to wear when you go back east." 

"Oh, this is wonderful. Thank you!" He grabbed her and kissed her fully on the lips. 

"You're welcome." She glowed with pleasure. 

More presents were unwrapped until there were finally only three packages left. One was Armando's present to Cass. The other two were flat white envelopes. Both were marked as being from Almak, Benny & Ray. One was for her parents and one was for Armando. She instructed them to open the envelopes simultaneously. 

Carl handed their envelope to his wife to open. Catherine looked at Armando and they both began tearing open the white paper at the same time. Armando got his out marginally ahead of Catherine and gasped at what he saw. It was a tatted snowflake, similar to the ones that hung on Cass' tree but much more intricate. 

"The dogs contributed the fur. I just did the rest of it," Cass said. 

"Honey, they're wonderful," was her father's exclamation. 

"Yeah, Cass, they are," agreed Armando. 

"Okay, can I open my present now?" she asked. 

"Sure." 

Normally Cass was very careful about unwrapping Christmas presents. But now she tore the paper off the box in a most unrestrained fashion. The box was plain brown corrugated cardboard and gave no clues as to its contents. She tore off the tape and cast it aside. The flaps sprung up and her eager hands dug into a mound of foam packing peanuts. She felt something other than Styrofoam, and grabbed at it to pull it out. When she saw it, she was so startled she nearly dropped it. Armando quickly leaned over and reinforced her grip. 

Her parents had no clue what she was looking at, only that whatever was housed in the black metal frame had brought tears to her eyes. She turned it around and they saw a black and white photograph of their son, Christopher, shirtless, with a young Almak in his arms. 

She let her parents take the photo from her and rounded on Armando. Before he knew what had hit him, she had him gripped in an embrace so tight he could barely breathe. Tears of joy flowed unrestrained down her cheeks. 

"Well, what was I supposed to do with it?" he asked quietly in her ear. 

"Send it back to Chicago," was her whispered reply. "But I'm so very glad you didn't." 

Cass knew her parents would have many questions but right now she didn't care. It was Christmas day, she was surrounded by the three people she loved the most in her life, and she would soon have more people sharing her joy. At that moment she was just feeling incredibly blessed. 

"Blessed be," she whispered. 

The End 


End file.
